


the call of the moon

by fantastiken



Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 04:31:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6141570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fantastiken/pseuds/fantastiken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wonsik breathed in the crisp scent of the midnight air as he felt his body grow a little restless. He was about to turn, and he couldn’t stop a little smile from tugging at the corners of his lips.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the call of the moon

**Author's Note:**

> ~ originally written for [vixxpromptparty](http://vixxpromptparty.livejournal.com/)~  
> ~ tw for mentions of suicide!! ;;;

At first he felt nothing. Nothing out of the ordinary, at least. Wonsik just walked around at night, not completely calm but mostly at ease when he came to terms with what was happening to him, like it was what he was born to do. 

The shadows, the unforgiving wind, the eerie noises; none of that ever fazed him. He could finally put a finger on the reason behind his affinity with the darkness as well. 

He breathed in the crisp scent of the midnight air as he felt his body grow a little restless. Wonsik was about to turn, and he couldn’t stop a little smile from tugging at the corners of his lips. 

///// 

A long time passed in which he spent his nights wandering around by himself, getting used to the feeling of damp grass under his feet and progressively, under his paws. Turning felt easier and more natural to him each night, although he’d wished he wasn’t alone from the very beginning. He would have liked to have someone, anyone, guide him and help him calm his racing heart. 

Wonsik had heard of some that never got used to shifting and always suffered through it, the experience traumatic to the point of madness. He even heard of some that had been driven so insane by it all that they decided to take the easiest way out they could. Wonsik whined low in his throat, the sound making him look much less dangerous than he could ever hope for. It had been hard for him in the beginning, he wasn’t going to lie, but time heals everything and even his wounded and confused heart mended a little when he let himself hear the call of the night. As soon as he let his instincts, his wolf, take over, everything became so much more manageable. 

Still, he always felt a dull ache in his bones, his very core, that he was sure had nothing to do with turning into a wolf every night. He felt incomplete. 

However, he just let himself _be_ for a while. 

Wonsik let himself exist simply as he pushed the intense buzzing of his bones away into a dark corner of his mind, not analyzing it and letting himself _feel_ it just for the sake of it. He needed to settle a little before facing whatever was pushing him forward to a fate he wasn’t sure he could look in the eye and deal with. 

New moon was Wonsik’s favorite. It might have something to do that he was first turned during new moon, but Wonsik liked to think that he had some semblance of power over that decision. New moon felt somewhat magical. Not in a fairytale kind of way ―Wonsik was now aware that magic wasn’t as innocent and harmless as most fairytales made it out to be―, but in a more serene kind of way. 

The yellowish glow of the moon might seem spectral to others, yet Wonsik felt more inclined to roam around when such a big, round and dimmed moon was hung high up in the sky. Almost as if it were a very old friend watching over him and keeping him company. 

///// 

It had been during new moon, precisely, when Wonsik had felt something for the first time. Something so new yet so familiar that he’d almost started crying. 

That feeling he carried for long months until it was unbearable and he had to do something about it. Madness was not a good companion, after all, and listening to his wolf had never been a bad decision. And so he did. He listened to his wolf once again and doing so made him wail to the moon and cry out helplessly, almost in physical pain. 

The sensations that took over him then were devastating, the kind of crippling sorrow and compulsion that would render the most powerful creature defenseless. Wonsik didn’t let that stop him and started looking for answers to why his chest felt so tight, why his heart was clenching wildly. Why he felt like every bone in his body would snap and split into smithereens if he didn’t start running south to search for something, _someone_ right away. His eyes shifted constantly as he looked for those answers, that something he couldn’t even put into words but he felt with such intensity he thought he might faint. He couldn’t run fast enough. 

Midnight had never felt so suffocating. Wonsik had never felt so desperate. 

He ran as fast as his stiff muscles let him, as far away as his instinct yelled at him to. When he found what he was looking for, however, he was the one to yell. Laying on the floor, in the middle of a deserted park in the suburbs, was a young wolf. 

Wonsik sniffled the air cautiously; the wolf was male. His fur was completely black, shiny and dotted with dry leaves and a few blades of grass. When he let out a long, desolate whine, Wonsik felt his insides curl as a sympathetic whine of his own crawled up his throat. The wolf didn’t seem to hear him, though, and just curled in on himself with a yelp. It was pitiful, the way he shivered, and Wonsik felt a new rush of compulsion at the sight, like the wolf’s pain was his own. 

Wonsik was the only one around if his sense of smell didn’t betray him, and there seemed to be no trace of a fight anywhere close. That’s when it dawned on him that the wolf was in pain because he’d recently been turned and he wasn’t used to it yet. There was a possibility that it was his first time, even. 

Panic set heavy in Wonsik’s stomach as he stepped closer to the young wolf with his bare feet and the bite of the wind unforgiving all over his skin. Something inside of him pushed him forward towards the wolf even though part of him felt at the verge of tears for no reason. Then, the wolf opened his eyes and fixed his gaze on Wonsik’s. 

The previous turmoil inside his chest escalated quickly and suddenly his hands and feet itched to reach out and touch the wolf. Before he could do anything, though, the wolf turned and in a few seconds, there was a boy right in front of Wonsik. His bare skin was covered in a thin layer of sweat and, to Wonsik’s horror, it was also marred with a few purpling bruises and angry scratches. His hair was matted to his forehead and he was panting and whining. 

Wonsik glanced around the park looking for some kind of evidence as he kneeled on the ground next to the shaking boy. He squinted his eyes under the dim light of the new moon but still couldn’t find what had caused such damage on the boy’s arms and sides. Lord knows he himself had run into tree trunks on purpose to stop the pain of his first turnings ―it didn’t make it better, honestly, but at least it had helped him shake off some of the rage that was eating him alive. He wouldn’t be surprised if the boy had done the same. 

Perhaps he should have been afraid. A young wolf was unpredictable and messy, after all, and getting hurt was at the bottom of the list of things that Wonsik wished for. That strange gut feeling was spurring him on, however. 

Wonsik glanced at the boy for a few seconds and in him he saw himself, weak, scared, helpless. Confused and disoriented. Hungry, in pain. He heard his own pants and his own mournful keens. He felt the ache of his muscles, the throbbing of his bruises, the wetness of his own tears and Wonsik just couldn’t bring himself to look away and pretend he hadn’t seen anything. 

With careful fingers he brushed the boy’s bangs and lightly felt his forehead with the back of his hand ―he was feverish. 

“What’s your name?” Wonsik’s voice was a whisper barely concealed in the darkness. 

It took the boy a long time and several tries to answer, but Wonsik made sure to never forget his name when he managed to croak out a husky, “Sanghyuk.” 

Each second that passed helped Wonsik piece together the situation, and he felt some kind of relief wash over him as he did so. The boy had definitely been turned recently ―not bitten; there was no visible bite mark anywhere― and he couldn’t control when he shifted. 

Right then, a blood-curling shriek broke the quietness of the night. Sanghyuk started shaking more violently and he cried out in pain. With tears streaming down his cheeks and across the bridge of his nose he looked at Wonsik, pleading, and voiced a vicious grunt. 

“Shh.” Wonsik was quick to unclench Sanghyuk’s fists to prevent him from piercing his own skin with his sharp nails. “Sanghyuk,” he called, hands on the boy’s face. “Hey, Sanghyuk.” 

The boy could barely breathe rhythmically anymore; he was about to turn into a wolf again. 

Wonsik’s head hummed with memories he didn’t necessarily want to remember and also with the urge to calm Sanghyuk down. 

“Sanghyuk,” he said again, thumbs slowly brushing the boy’s cheekbones. “I know what you’re going through. I know it’s painful but—“ 

He hissed. Sanghyuk had grabbed his wrists suddenly and his nails were digging deep into Wonsik’s skin. 

“Let it take over you. Don’t fight it.” 

Sanghyuk looked at him for a second so fleeting Wonsik was afraid he’d imagined it. However, a few heartbeats later, Sanghyuk’s voice startled him into reality again. 

“Why.” 

“It’ll be less painful. It doesn’t matter how much you try to fight this, it’s going to happen. Whether you like it or not.” Wonsik’s heart drummed fast, almost overwhelmed by the brutality of his words. He smoothed the other boy’s hair softly, knowing the motion would help distract him some. “If you let it happen, it’ll be over faster and I’ll be able to answer your questions sooner.” 

Sanghyuk stared at him again, longer this time. His trembling had decreased faintly. 

“You have many of those, don’t you.” He chuckled, more bitter than he intended to be, but Sanghyuk visibly relaxed a little more. 

“So many.” 

“Let the wolf take over, then,” he offered. “I’ll be here when you come back.” 

That didn’t really happen until a few hours before dawn, but Wonsik was patient. He knew he’d found what he had been looking for so desperately that night, what the moon had set him up for. Sanghyuk was nothing but a stranger, really, but approaching him had felt too natural to be only a coincidence. This was where Wonsik was supposed to be, where he _needed_ to be. 

///// 

When Sanghyuk came to his senses hours and a handful of turnings later, crying and exhausted, he wasn’t alone like he had expected. When his eyes opened tiredly, he was met with the sight of Wonsik, face serene and hands warm in his hair. 

For the first time in forever, Sanghyuk wasn’t alone. He had Wonsik, arms waiting for him to crawl onto his lap, words ready to soothe Sanghyuk’s wounded heart. And Wonsik was a stranger, but it somehow felt like he was the long-awaited answer to every single one of Sanghyuk’s prayers. 

That night, new moon became Sanghyuk’s favorite.


End file.
